


To Boldly Go...

by AlyKat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Because I'm having a lot of Bobbi and Francis feels okay?, But it's awesome!, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Pining, Put 'em together and what have you got?, Tied together, birthday fic, mentions of Bobbi Morse, mentions of Francis Barton, spaceship au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:54:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyKat/pseuds/AlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to spend his birthday. Not how he’d planned to spend it at all, actually. Floating through space in a broken down ship, was bad enough, but floating through space in a broken down ship, tied to a post alongside the object of his five year long affections was even worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Boldly Go...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raiining](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/gifts).



> Written as a birthday ficlet for Raiining! I saw "Spaceship AU" "Tied together" and "pining" and went, "YEP! I know what I'm writing!!!" 
> 
> Sorry it's actually late...life managed to disrupt my plans. But! Here it is! And I don't think either of us are on the West Coast, but no matter! It's still 11pm on the West Coast, therefore I STILL got it to you before the end of the night! Success!! 
> 
> ENJOY! 
> 
> (standard stuff: Not mine, just playing with them. Not beta'd cuz ain't nobody got time for that. All mistakes are mine and I'm sorry.)

It wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to spend his birthday. Not how he’d planned to spend it at all, actually. Floating through space in a broken down ship, was bad enough, but floating through space in a broken down ship, tied to a post alongside the object of his five year long affections was even worse. No. This wasn’t at all how Colonel Phillip J. Coulson of the Space Harbor Interactive Environment Deployment Agency (or SHIELD for short) had planned to spend his birthday.

The red warning lights continued to flash, but at least the screeching alarms had finally given up the ghost. Thank God for small mercies. It was growing painfully cold in the holding bay and Phil watched as a box of freeze dried ice cream bars went floating past them, slowly tumbling through the air. There went his birthday treat.

“How much longer do you figure we’ve got left, Sir?” Clint asked, his back pressed against Phil’s. He had to take a moment to first revel in the sound of Clint’s voice, then to soak in the warmth while it was still there before he could answer.

“I don’t know...twenty minutes? Maybe?” His head was starting to feel fuzzy and light, the edges of his vision hazy with grey. At least they’ll fall asleep peacefully enough before they freeze to death. That had to be a silver lining, right?

Clint groaned and Phil felt when he slumped his head forward. Yeah, that was his thought, too.

It was only suppose to be a simple rendezvous mission. He and his Major were suppose to meet with a stranded freighter, Clint would scamper across and fix whatever was wrong, and then they’d both be on their way. True, that wasn’t exactly a normal, everyday thing for them. In fact, it was a pretty rare thing for them to just go out and help a ship in need, but Phil had been in a damn good mood, and figured since it was his birthday, he’d be a nice guy and offer their services.

When they docked with the SR-6854C, a ship that was long out of date and Clint and Phil both agreed should have been scrapped years ago, they were met with a different surprise. A boarding party of pirates, all wearing black leather dusters with a bright red skull with octopus tentacles curling below it, rushed through the airlock and trashed through their simple little ship.

Major Clint Barton was more than capable of defending the cockpit, using his blaster bow to shoot off arrow after arrow of compressed laser energy into the HYDRA goons that tried to get in while Phil rushed to defend the rest of the ship.

Of course, when Phil blinked open his eyes sometime later and found himself tied to a post along with his second in command, he realized neither of them had been successful and that their beautiful ship, Lola, was slowly floating to their doom. The power cut, the simulated gravity disengaged, the only thing left working was the red warning lights, and even those seemed to be dimming.

With a heavy sigh, Phil leaned his head back and stared straight up. He wondered, if maybe they were going to die, if he should finally come clean about his feelings to Clint. After all, wasn’t like either of them could run off or anything. And if anything, he could blame it on slow onset delusions or something. Hypothermia caused people to say stupid things, didn’t it?

“Barton?” It was now or never. Literally.

There was a moment pause before Clint’s voice trickled back to his ears. “Yeah, Sir?”

“Have you...was there…did you have anyone back home waiting for you to come back, still?”

“Heh,” Clint huffed a soft laugh and shook his head. “Well...pretty sure Francis was kind of hoping I’d be coming back home one of these days, but doubt Bobbi’s gonna shed a tear if I don’t.”

Bobbi Morse had been Clint’s long time girlfriend, that much Phil knew. They were an On-Again-Off-Again deal that was generally Off more than it was On. Still, somehow during one of their brief On periods, Bobbi had gotten pregnant and they’d welcomed their son, Francis Barton, into the world...during one of their Off periods, of course. Phil had thought for a time the pair had tried to stay together for Francis, even getting married for a short time. A very short time. He wasn’t going to admit that he was kind of happy when the pair divorced and Clint moved back to the base.

“Ah, right. Bobbi.” He frowned, worrying at his lip before continuing. “Did you...I mean...do you love her?”

His question was once again met with silence, this time longer than before and for a moment Phil feared he’d slipped off. That would be Phil’s luck, after all. Finally though, there was a soft snuffle and cough.

“I thought I did. For a long time I thought I loved her. Then I sort of realized that what I felt for her wasn’t love. I mean, it was, it was just...a different kind. More than sister, like I feel for Nat...but...not enough to keep trying to make things work. Ya know?”

Phil felt Clint shift, Clint’s hands twisting against the binds again before going still.

“Yeah. What made you realize that?”

“Realized I was in love with someone else. Really in love.” The response this time was instant and automatic and it had Phil’s heart stopping dead in his chest.

Swallowing thickly, he coughed against the cold and shivered. “O-Oh? Who’s the lucky girl?”

Whoever she was, Phil wondered if she even knew. If she would be waiting for Clint’s return or if she didn’t have the faintest idea of his affections. It would be a shame if she didn’t. Clint was gorgeous and strong -- not just physically, either! -- he was funny, caring, and truly just a good person, even if he didn’t always think that he was.

God, how could Phil come clean now, knowing that Clint was in love with someone else?

“...who says it’s a girl?”

The hesitation and challenge in Clint’s voice suddenly had Phil’s heart jump starting again. “It’s...not?”

“I’m pan, Coulson. Why’s it gotta be a girl? Cuz it’s not.”

“O-oh. I’m sorry. I --”

“Forget it. Doesn’t even matter. Guy’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”

Phil blinked and for some bizarre reason, felt his heart breaking for Clint. He wanted Clint to be happy, to have a chance with whomever it was that had captured his affections. Even if it wasn’t him.

“Yeah. I know how you feel.” Phil mumbled back, dropping his head down to rest his chin on his chest. The buttons of his uniform shirt were cold and hard against his skin. The fact that he barely felt it was more than just a little alarming.

The pair sat silent again, each lost to their own thoughts as the minutes slowly ticked by. Phil was fairly certain he’d lost feeling to his fingers, and he knew for a fact he no longer could feel anything below his knees. And his ass had gone beyond the point of being numb forty-five minutes ago. They were going to die. There was no way around it. They were going to die.

“Clint…?” Phil’s voice had become rough and low. He was running out of time. They were running out of time.

“Clint…?”

“...yeah...Sir?”

“There’s something I need to tell y--”

“Shh!” Clint’s head suddenly shot up, knocking back into Phil’s and causing his to snap forward. “Omph! Sorry! Listen!”

Groaning, Phil closed his eyes and strained to hear what Clint heard.

Silence.

“I don’t hear anything…”

“No. No I heard...I heard…”

Above them, the speakers crackled to life, a staticy sound drifting through them and a faint voice coming over.

“ *fizzlePOP!* --do you read m-- *crackle* I repeat. SHIELD Ship 1-9-6-4, do you read?”

Phil’s eyes snapped open, his head shooting straight up, causing him to sway dangerously and regret doing so in the process. A voice! Someone was using the emergency frequency to try and hail them! And there they were, tied to a post, and each other, a good sixty feet from the radio!

Behind him, Clint swore and yanked at the binds around their wrists, tugging with all his might. They had to get free! They had to get to the radio!

“This is Iron *crackle static pop!* calling on emergency frequency 616. If you do not respond, you will be boarded and salvaged. We are docking with you now. I repeat we--”

The word was drowned out as the sound of metal crunching on metal shook the ship. Saved!!

Good! This was good! Clint would get to go home to his son, and maybe even tell whoever it was he’d fallen in love with the truth. Phil was glad Clint would get his happy ending. Phil wouldn’t though, he was sure of it. There was no one waiting for him at home, except for a plant that by this time had no doubt died as well. No, if only one of them could survive, he was glad it would be Clint. Phil knew he wasn’t going to. With each passing second it became harder to keep his eyes open. Sounds were becoming tinny and distant. Even Clint’s voice was starting to sound like it was underwater.

The world seemed to slow around him as the airlock was opened, flooding blinding white light into the cargo hold and silhouetting two figures in artificial gravity suits as they stepped onto the ship. They would save Clint. But there’d be no saving Phil.

The cold and darkness slipped over him, pulling him under with only the faint cry of his name -- _his name!_ Not ‘Sir’ -- coming in on Clint’s voice following him down.

~*~*~*~

Phil groaned pathetically as he slowly began coming to. Bright white surrounded him, blinding him before he could even open his eyes. If this was Heaven, then he wanted to know why he was in so much pain. And why there were so many annoying beeping noises and mumbled voices around him.

Slowly opening his eyes, he let out another groan as he recognized the white and blue decor of the SHIELD Medical Ship.

_Oh God_ he’d survived after all.

Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes again, hoping he could pretend to still be asleep before anyone noticed. Which, of course, failed to be the case.

“Busted, Coulson,” a familiar voice teased from the bed across from him. “Might as well open your eyes. I know you’re awake.”

Phil’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton and as if his tongue had swollen in his mouth as he’d slept, but he still swallowed thickly at the voice and opened his eyes once again. With a slow, calculated movement, he turned his head just in time to watch as Clint levered himself off his own bed and shuffled to plop himself down on the edge of Phil’s.

Bandages were wrapped around both wrists, on both Clint and Phil, and a mitten was formed around Clint’s right hand. Phil wanted to ask what had happened to his fingers, why they were wrapped that way, but the dryness of his throat kept him from getting the words out.  

Clint though, seemed to realize this and had a glass of water at the ready for him to sip carefully from. With the coolness soothing the way down, Phil coughed and rested his head back to stare up at Clint. Still so beautiful and perfect in his eyes.

“I have just one thing to say to you, Phil Coulson,” Clint’s tone turned stern and sharp, his blue-green eyes stormy as he glared down at him. “If you even think about dying on your birthday ever again, so help me I will hurt you.”

Phil blinked, knowing it was suppose to be a threat, even if the delivery had been very much comical.

“H-how...can you hurt me...if I’m already dead?”

“Shuddup…” Clint mumbled just before setting the glass down and bending forward to bury his face in Phil’s chest, clinging to him for dear life.

The sudden movement and having a body half laying atop him had Phil blinking rapidly again before his brain finally caught up and he was able to slowly, stiffly, move his arms to wrap around Clint’s shoulders. It was then he noticed his own hands were wrapped in mitten like bandages to be kept warm until they healed. Of course, from the hypothermia that had been setting in.

With a sigh, Phil turned his head, resting his cheek on Clint’s soft hair. It was even softer than it looked and smelled even better than he’d imagined. Smiling softly, he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Clint in his arms.

“Were you worried, Barton?” He croaked out quietly.

“Of course I was worried, you dope!” Replied Clint, pulling back quickly to stare down at him. Phil nearly whimpered at the loss of touch. “You died! For like two minutes you were fucking dead and I couldn’t do anything to help you! I couldn’t tell you you’re the one I--”

Emotions choked him up, causing him to cough and look away, never finishing his sentence even as Phil stared at him hopefully. Phil waited a minute, until he saw Clint’s throat bob. Reaching out, he placed his mittened hand over Clint’s arm, drawing his attention back around.

“...I’m the one you...what?”

He wondered for a moment if Clint was going to answer or just deflect, when the words fell from his lips, “You’re the one I fell in love with. Jesus! Do I need to get Stark to write it in the stars?”

“You…” Phil laughed. He didn’t mean to, of course, it just sort of happened. He laughed and then laughed again, and again, until he was sitting up in tears, clutching at Clint and pulling him in close. Phil buried his face in the crook of Clint’s neck, hanging onto him as he continued to laugh and cough.

Clint stiffened in his arms, preparing to push him off when Phil leaned back enough to put one padded hand up to Clint’s cheek.

“I...I’m sorry,” He struggled to catch his breath, eyes shining bright as he smiled widely at Clint. A real, full smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him look far more boyish than any forty-eight year old man had any right to look. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

“Yeah, sure feels like it.” Grumbled Clint, scowling as he turned his eyes away, only to have Phil turn his head so they were looking at each other again.

“No, no Clint, I’m not laughing at you. I...I’m laughing because...God, Clint I’ve been in love with you for years. I wanted to tell you, when we were tied up on the ship. I was going to tell you, but then the radio signal came through and I--”

Phil never got to finish his explanation. It was kind of hard to when he was being pushed back against the medical bed and having his tonsils examined by Clint’s tongue.

Huffing out another laugh against the kiss, Phil wrapped his arms around Clint again, holding him close. It may not have been the way he’d planned to spend his birthday, but all things considering? Phil had to admit it was probably his best one ever.


End file.
